


Twice to Keep the Night On

by beggingwolf



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2020-2021 NHL Season, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Post-Game Domesticity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:02:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29927613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beggingwolf/pseuds/beggingwolf
Summary: As Zhenya dozes on the drive back to Sewickley, Sid's hand rests on his body. The yellow glow of each streetlamp they pass under flares his vision pink through his eyelids, and he feels warm and tired and languid. Sid's touch is a heat that Zhenya wants to wrap himself in.A tactile evening in a dark bedroom.
Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin
Comments: 21
Kudos: 90





	Twice to Keep the Night On

**Author's Note:**

> An enormous "how dare you" and "thank you" to [@idontlikeem](https://idontlikeem.tumblr.com/) (who can also be found here as [M0stlyVoid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M0stlyVoid/pseuds/M0stlyVoid)) for inspiring this fic at approximately 11pm last night and then providing beta services to fix the nonsense I churned out at 2am. 
> 
> This fic contains the mention of potential, offered somnophilia, but none takes place, much to the chagrin of my beta.

Zhenya dozes on the drive back to Sewickley.

He and Sid both know the drive from the arena through the twisting, thin roads by heart. Zhenya bets he could drive it even like this, with his head resting on Sid’s balled-up hoodie pressed to the window. He’d grabbed the hoodie from the backseat as soon as Sid unlocked the SUV’s doors, and Sid had spared him a fond look before reminding him it was his turn to unload the dryer.

Now, though, it’s only the hum of the road beneath the car’s tires in his ears. Sid never turns the radio on unless Zhenya mentions it, and even then, it always just sparks a gentle, well-worn fight as Sid tries to tune to the country station that Zhenya refuses to listen to.

Zhenya lets out a quiet sigh, and Sid’s right hand slips off the wheel and over the center console to squeeze Zhenya’s thigh.

“You hanging in there?” Sid asks softly, his voice deep and comforting, and Zhenya really, really wants to be in bed.

He makes a sound in the back of his throat, and even he doesn’t know if it’s supposed to be affirmative or negative. Sid’s hand squeezes again anyways and stays there, warm and heavy. Zhenya’s mind drifts, the rocking of the car making his head feel light. The pressure of Sid’s hand grounds him and keeps him clinging to consciousness for a few seconds more. 

Sid’s hand slips higher and in, toward Zhenya’s inner thigh, and Zhenya manages a small smile into the fabric of Sid’s hoodie. The yellow glow of each streetlamp they pass under flares his vision pink through his eyelids, and he feels warm and tired and languid, relaxed with the satisfaction of hard work and a win. 

“-no? Geno?” he hears, and he blinks his eyes open to the harsh white garage light. 

“We’re home,” Sid says, shaking his shoulder again, and Zhenya sits up with a grunt that sounds like his father. 

“You let me sleep here,” he sighs, and Sid laughs, dropping his hand to pop the buckle on Zhenya’s seat belt before undoing his own. 

“Your back wouldn’t thank you in the morning,” Sid says, tugging open his door and slipping out of the car. 

Zhenya lets out another loud groan, exaggerating it since Sid’s within earshot, and hauls himself inside after Sid, chucking the hoodie into the hallway that leads to the laundry room.

“Just put it in the hamper,” Sid tells him as he heads for the kitchen, and Zhenya leaves it on the floor with a wan smirk. 

“You want a Gatorade?” Sid asks after he disappears through the doorway, and Zhenya hears the clinking of the sauce bottles in the fridge door as Sid opens it to poke around. 

“No, sleep,” Zhenya says, turning for the stairs. 

“A beer?”

Zhenya snorts as he takes the first step.

“Dream about beer, maybe,” he says. “Good dream only.”

“...you sure?” Sid asks, and his voice sounds closer, so Zhenya turns to look behind him when he gets to the first landing. 

Sid’s stepping back through the entryway to the kitchen. He peers up at Zhenya, and his eyes are bright and his lips are turned up at the corners. He’s always radiant after a win, burning up with energy like a nuclear core. When Zhenya had been younger and more afraid, he thought he’d burn himself on someone like Sid. 

Sid’s always had that ability to rope people into his orbit, his habits, his superstitions, his circle. Zhenya watches with fondness now when he sees Sid hook a new rookie in, sitting down next to them in his undershirt and leggings and talking for a half hour after practice. He remembers Sid awkwardly catching him in various states of undress in their first few seasons, trying to stumble through a conversation using Zhenya’s limited English and an amalgamation of hockey terms. 

It had worked on Zhenya eventually, just like it works on all the rookies, and Zhenya had found himself drawn closer and closer to Sid until they fell into each other and stuck. 

Sid smiles at Zhenya, and Zhenya’s heart tightens in a familiar, comforting sensation.

“Come to bed, любимый,” Zhenya murmurs.

“I’ll be right up,” Sid says softly, leaning against the doorway, looking comfortable in his Penguins shirt and sweatpants that are starting to fray at the ankles. His hair is wild and uncut, and his facial hair is dark against his pale skin. He looks well-worn, homely, like he’s Zhenya’s.

“I’m take your pillow,” Zhenya says, because he can’t think of anything else to do with the enormous emotions that billow up in his chest when he looks at Sid for too long. 

“You won’t,” Sid calls after him as he heads up the rest of the stairs, and Zhenya breathes out a laugh as he gets up to the second floor. 

He’s clean from the showers at the arena, so he just shucks off his clothes as soon as he hits the master bedroom, throwing first his sweats and then his quarter-zip toward the hamper, peeling off his socks and kicking the whole mess into a condensed ball at the foot of the closet because it’ll be good enough for Sid not to complain. 

When he crawls into their bed, it’s only with a loose pair of athletic shorts on, and he tugs the covers tight around his shoulders, The pillow is cool against his face and Zhenya blearily hopes Sid will hurry up so he’ll heat the sheets for them both. 

He hasn’t even realized he’d drifted off until Sid’s weight pressing into him makes his eyes flutter open. Sid’s leaning over him, dropping Zhenya’s phone onto Zhenya’s nightstand, and his hand braces on Zhenya’s hip as he carefully falls back onto his own side of the bed.

“You left it in the car again,” Sid says softly, and his hand rubs at Zhenya’s thigh through the blankets. 

“Thank you,” Zhenya mumbles, or he tries—the sounds that come out are close enough, he figures, and Sid’s fingers squeeze his leg in understanding. 

Sid always makes a fuss out of situating himself in bed; there’s lots of grunting and dissatisfied sounds and rustling of legs and arms and sheets until Sid finally finds whatever position he’s deemed comfortable for the night. 

Tonight, he’s pressed all along Zhenya, the warmth of his skin bleeding into Zhenya’s bare back. Zhenya lets out a private, happy sigh as Sid’s wide palm slips over his stomach and up to his sternum, pressing them close together. 

Held like this, Zhenya could sleep forever. 

“Сладких снов,” Zhenya mutters, like he does every night, but instead of Sid’s _Goodnight, Geno,_ he feels the warm, dry press of Sid’s lips to the nape of his neck.

“Sid?” Zhenya whispers, not opening his eyes. 

“Geno,” Sid murmurs, his voice low and rocking over his vocal chords, a rumble that makes an instinctual warmth twinge in Zhenya’s gut. 

“No,” Zhenya groans, pressing his face harder into his pillow. “We old. Sleep.”

“We’re not old,” Sid says, and his hand on Zhenya’s chest shifts, tracing gentle circles over Zhenya’s skin in a familiar move Zhenya knows the exact destination of. 

“Old,” Zhenya says. “So old. Sleep. Maybe we fuck in morning.”

“You’re grumpy in the morning,” Sid says, and Zhenya can feel his lips start to drag wetly on Zhenya’s skin like he’s licked them. 

And Zhenya may be grumpy in the morning, but it’s not like Sid is any better. 

“Then you wake me up with blowjob, not so grumpy,” Zhenya sighs, rolling his shoulders just to try and dislodge Sid.

Sid mulishly sets his teeth into Zhenya’s shoulder blade, and, really, Zhenya should have expected that. 

“Come on,” Sid croons, and Zhenya’s always a sucker for it when Sid gets plaintive, when he asks with that tone of voice, a quiet, forlorn whine that he never uses anywhere else but in their bed. “We both scored tonight, and you looked so good, your legs are so strong right now, it was getting me hard on the bench.”

“Should just jerk off on bench, maybe then I’m sleep,” Zhenya says with an exhausted smile, and Sid nips at the back of his neck. 

“You’re such an asshole,” Sid whispers, and then he leans up to press his lips to Zhenya’s earlobe just as his wandering fingers dart up to grab onto Zhenya’s pendants, tugging on them tightly, exactly where Zhenya knew they’d end up. The heavy strand that holds his pendants is secure, so Zhenya doesn’t worry about it breaking even though his breath stutters as Sid uses his strong grip to pull Zhenya’s torso back against his own.

He can feel Sid’s mouth curl up into a smile before he teases at Zhenya’s earlobe with his tongue, gently closing his lips over the sensitive skin. His beard scrapes against the thin skin behind Zhenya’s ear, and if Zhenya wasn’t so bone-tired, he’d shiver.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Sid finally murmurs. “I’ll make it quick, it’ll be good.”

“Quick?” Zhenya sighs. “Worst lay ever.”

“You dick” Sid says, the quiet laugh in his voice shaking the words, and he presses a kiss to the hinge of Zhenya’s jaw before he’s slipping down Zhenya’s body and under the covers. 

“Gonna fall asleep,” Zhenya groans as he feels Sid press his lips to the middle of Zhenya’s back, and Sid’s fingers dive into the waistband of his shorts. 

“No you won’t,” Sid’s muffled voice comes from beneath the blankets. 

“Okay,” Zhenya says, “you do what you want. I’m sleep.”

Sid pauses from where he’s got Zhenya’s shorts pulled halfway down over his ass, and when Sid pops back out from under the covers, Zhenya turns his head and cracks his eyes open. Sid leans over him in the dark, peering at Zhenya like a meerkat, his eyes inky-dark, his long hair a mess on his head, and he’s all Zhenya’s.

“...you mean that?” Sid asks him.

“Yes. Have fun, tell me in morning,” Zhenya says, dropping his face back onto his pillow with a sigh. 

Sid doesn’t move, and Zhenya thinks he can hear the gears turning in Sid’s head as he mulls it over.

“...I like it when you’re awake, though,” Sid says, and Zhenya groans and rolls onto his back. 

Zhenya reaches for Sid, and Sid goes down without complaint or hesitation, dropping onto Zhenya’s chest and settling his face into the crook of Zhenya’s neck. 

Like this, Zhenya can be the one to press his lips to Sid’s ear, and he wraps his tired arms around Sid’s back. 

“Most needy,” he whispers to Sid, enjoying the crushing weight of Sid draped over his torso. “Always be need attention, why?”

“If you’re not in the mood—” Sid murmurs into Zhenya’s skin, and Zhenya shushes him, brushing his fingers over the valley of Sid’s spine. 

“Like this,” Zhenya finally caves, because he’s always going to give Sid what he asks for, and Zhenya lets his head loll back against the pillow as he shifts his hips. One of Sid’s big thighs falls between his own.

“Oh,” Sid says after a beat, and he pauses for another second before gently rocking his hips against Zhenya’s. The heavy pressure of Sid’s leg is comforting, familiar, and warmth slips through Zhenya’s belly. He can feel how hard Sid is already, and it only takes another slow grind of Sid’s powerful hips for Zhenya’s body to start responding. 

Sid pushes himself up onto his forearms, and his chest rubs against Zhenya’s more sensitive nipples. Zhenya lets out a subdued sound, and Sid kisses at his jaw. 

“I wanted to blow you,” Sid murmurs. “Can I?”

“Do what you want,” Zhenya tells him again, and Sid presses a grateful kiss to his lips before moving back down Zhenya’s body.

Sid’s greedy hands feel up everything on his path; Zhenya’s pecs, his nipples, the patch of hair in the center of his chest, the soft flesh over his belly. He yanks Zhenya’s shorts down with authority and within the span of a single breath, he has a hand wrapped around the base of Zhenya’s cock and is licking a long stripe up its side. 

Zhenya lets out another sigh, and one of his hands slips down to dig into the ridiculous curls on Sid’s head, his other arm flung above his head on his pillow. 

Sid’s soft lips wrap around the head of Zhenya’s cock, and the tip of his tongue teases at the sensitive spot on the underside. Zhenya puts a bit more force behind his next breath so it’ll come out as a moan, and Sid hums with satisfaction, working his way down onto Zhenya fully, until he’s taken as much of Zhenya as he can comfortably manage. 

It’s not a night for Sid to strain himself, like he will when he gets competitive and worked up and takes a certain pleasure in choking himself on it, so Zhenya curls his fingers harder into Sid’s soft hair and tugs on it, pulling him back before he can get overzealous. 

Sid responds perfectly, just starting a slow savoring rhythm up and down Zhenya’s length, the broad flat warmth of his tongue pressing against the underside in a way that makes Zhenya melt into the mattress.

 _“You’re so good to me,”_ Zhenya sighs to him. _“This is why I’m keeping you forever, yes?”_

Sid moans around him, the vibrations making heat surge in Zhenya’s gut, and his hips just barely twitch up toward Sid’s mouth.

He can feel Sid’s lips stretch into a smile around his cock, and Sid renews his efforts, his hand dipping down to press gently into Zhenya’s balls. Zhenya lets out a groan that echoes out of his chest, and his legs open wider, letting Sid settle more firmly between his thighs. 

Sid lets go of his cock, instead bracing his arm over Zhenya’s hips and working his mouth faster. It never takes long for it to get wet and sloppy, and the sounds make Zhenya get louder too. Sid is messy and indecent and shameless, and Sid pins his hips down so he can’t shift away like he’s trying to. 

“Sid,” Zhenya moans, and Sid moans back, sucking harder. It’s noisy and filthy and Sid’s doing it for Zhenya. He _loves_ it, wants it so bad that he’ll pin Zhenya down for it, begs for it like he isn’t Sidney Crosby, whines for it like he’d do it anywhere if Zhenya asked, so incredibly desperate, like he’s an animal in heat, and Zhenya’s breath catches in his throat. 

“Sid,” he bites out in warning, and Sid presses himself as far down as he can go, swallowing down Zhenya’s cum. 

Zhenya pets over Sid’s hair in halting strokes, his gasping breaths loud in the sudden silence of the bedroom. His heartbeat rabbits away beneath his ribs, and Sid’s hand flexes on his hip. 

Sid pulls off of Zhenya’s cock slowly, like he savors the stretch of taking it between his lips. As Zhenya slips from his mouth, he licks at the head, kittenish. It makes Zhenya whimper. 

_“Come here,”_ Zhenya says on a deep exhale, and Sid’s picked up enough Russian by now to pull himself up Zhenya’s body, out from under the blanket. 

Zhenya has to smile at Sid, tired as he is, because Sid’s grinning at him in a way that almost breaks Zhenya’s heart. His teeth glint in the dim moonlight, and he leans in to press a kiss to Zhenya’s lips.

“Good, eh?” Sid breathes against Zhenya’s lazy mouth, and Zhenya can taste himself on Sid’s tongue. 

“Brag,” Zhenya mutters, and he reaches a hand around Sid to grope at his ass. “Do you, then sleep.”

“Then sleep,” Sid mocks into Zhenya’s mouth, and Zhenya’s had enough of Sid’s teasing. 

_“They were right about you, you were a brat when you were younger, and you still are,”_ he says, and Zhenya tugs Sid’s boxers down with his free hand.

Sid’s cock smears precum across Zhenya’s belly already, always so eager. It had stunned Zhenya when they first started doing this, how Sid’s precum just coats him, enough that it almost reminded Zhenya of the women he’d slept with before. He _loves_ it, how obviously Sid shows his attraction, how Sid gets _wet_ for him, and Sid’s cock presses perfectly against the dip of Zhenya’s hip, slipping along Zhenya’s skin in a wet slide. 

_“Just like that,”_ Zhenya murmurs, and Sid presses his face back into Zhenya’s neck. 

Zhenya turns his face into Sid’s hair, taking in a deep breath of the shampoo Sid’s been using for a decade, and then a deeper one, so he can smell the scent of _Sid_ beneath it. He whispers soft things to Sid like this, little secrets Sid might or might not understand, and it always makes Sid whine, makes his hips jerk against Zhenya like he can’t control them anymore. 

This time is no different; Sid’s wiry beard scrapes against Zhenya’s neck, and he can feel the hitching breaths that shake out from between Sid’s lips, delicious little things that carry soft sounds Zhenya has to strain to hear. 

_“You’re so close, come on,”_ Zhenya whispers to him, tracing his blunt fingernails over the wide expanse of Sid’s back. His exhaustion makes him feel like he’s flying, even as Sid pins him to the mattress.

“G-” Sid gasps out, and Zhenya hugs him tight as he comes between them, a hot slip of wetness against their warm skin. 

Zhenya puckers his lips against Sid’s hair and then lets his arms go limp, slipping off of Sid’s shoulders. Sid collapses, his weight crushing Zhenya down into the mattress. For a minute, or two, or maybe more, it’s only the loud gusts of Sid’s breath and the pounding of his heart that Zhenya can feel like it’s in Zhenya’s chest too. Then Sid shifts and Zhenya opens his eyes again, awake but barely. 

“Fuck,” Sid finally groans. He presses one last kiss to the tender skin his beard had been scraping before hauling himself up off of Zhenya. He slips out of the bed, heading for the bathroom.

Zhenya fades in and out; the press of the lukewarm washcloth to his stomach makes him twitch, and then Sid manhandles him again until they’re tangled together, and then, blissfully, sleep claims him. 

Sid claimed him first, though, and Zhenya will never deny him that. 

**Author's Note:**

> Любимый → _liubimiy_ → beloved  
> Сладких снов → _Sladkikh snov_ → Sweet dreams
> 
> This was written based off of the events of the Pittsburgh vs. NYR game on March 7, 2021, in which both Sid and Geno scored, and Geno [halfheartedly tried to break up a fight.](https://idontlikeem.tumblr.com/post/645057680571088896/idontlikeem-fight-fight-fight-geno-sees-it)
> 
> The title is from the song “Kisser” by Step Rockets ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/track/6yoLE55GnijZgJ6lDm1FQ4?si=ChrVpOvOQfafOnkiBdJ1qQ), [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zn68PP4JM1M)).
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://beggingwolf.tumblr.com)!


End file.
